Precious Pennsylvania
by Golden Panther
Summary: This is a story about a therapist, his clients, and faith. AU. Written for Rob Tilelli.


**Precious Pennsylvania**

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 **Author's Note:** It is with great joy and immense pleasure that I present to you this piece for I have written this specifically for someone who probably won't read it anyway.

Rob Tilelli, you deserve a life free from chronic pain and suffering. You shan't be alone here, for as you continue onward, so shall He continue onward. With every step, he takes a larger one ahead of you. For He understands and listens and He comforts those who struggle yet still proclaim faith. When Job, Jonah, Noah, Joshua, Abraham, and even Jesus were in hardship, The Father was with them and guided them to Ultimate Perseverance. May He Bless and Keep You always.

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" _ **But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint."**_

 _ **-Isaiah 40:31**_

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 **-I-**

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 **1959**

Dr. Walter Julius James Cash walked into his office on February 14th with an empty pink envelope in his left hand and a plain, non-creative rose colored card in his right. Sitting down in his cherry wood desk and grabbing ballpoint pen from an off white coffee cup from his cupboard, Walter began to write a clichéd letter.

 _To Miss Stacy,_

 _I wish you the happiest of Valentine's Day, and I hope that this finds you warmly. For pure happiness is defined by the joy you discover in your heart and the love you produce in your head. I pray you find the quintessence of this and more, and this and more._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Walter_

Sighing deeply, Walter placed the card in the envelope and grabbed a piece of tape from his small, pitiful green tape dispenser that sat precariously on the edge of his desk near the outdated black dial phone that he purchased at a yard sale for three dollars. Without delay, the phone rang- its tone high pitched and ancient to the ear of the younger generation of human beings.

"Hello?" Walter asked, placing the rather cold cord phone to his head.

"Greetings Mister Cash," a kindred voice answered. "Do you have a moment?"

Walter nodded as he rubbed his eyes from the early morning rise. "Yes sir, may I ask your name?"

"Peter Pevensie sir."

"Well Mister Pevensie," Cash said as he grabbed a notebook from the far end of his desk and flipped over to a new page. "How can I be of service?"

"Actually you can be of service to someone else."

The phone went dead and the tone began to ring in his ear again. Walter instantly hung up and began to write on his blank paper his recent findings on a patient with schizophrenia. Apparently, an elderly man by the name of Julius Carter Thatcher was experiencing severe schizophrenia, claiming that a mouse could talk and perform tasks for him that he could no longer do. His cousin, James Hartwin Daren, thought the poor soul was simply ready to go to ether and had no business dealing with therapy.

 _'There is no point_ , _in keeping his hopes up like this. You know just as well as I do that there is no cure for his condition.'_ Cash recalled James saying to him once

' _Mister Thatcher, you may presume that I am in the business of the human mind, but in actuality I am in the business of the human soul and in order to preserve that, I must do what I can.'_

Walter smiled at the memory of that statement, he pictured James Hartwin standing up with a slight ruffle in his Sunday best and walk out more defeated than a congressman arguing a useless matter.

Just as he was getting to the part where the door slammed, Walter exited his daydream at the sound of the door knocking at a very faint but sweet voice.

"Mister Cash, my we come in?"

"You may." Walter said as he straightened himself out and stood erect in his chair.

Entering the room carrying what appeared to be a small dog cage covered in a purple velvet sheet was Lucy Pevensie. Her face was matured, with lovely eyes of green and her mother's perfume lingering on her clothes, she sat the small cage down on the non-business side chair, turned towards the doctor, smiled, and proceeded to walk out of the room.

"Excuse me," Walter said, leaning in his chair, somewhat disturbed that an unknown young woman placed a relatively unknown object on his client chair and leave without explanation. "Explain young lady, you said may 'we' come in, however I only see one of you."

"Don't worry," Lucy said, stopping and turning towards him, "he'll explain everything to you."

"I'm sorry, I don't follow- who will explain all of this? My girl are you senile? I can help you should you wish."

Lucy laughed slightly and frankly, so did something, or more correctly, someone else that appeared to be currently housed in the small cage sitting firmly on the chair.

"Just trust me Doctor Cash." Lucy reached for the doorknob and turned it in fluid motion, it was almost as if her hand was dancing with it, going around in precious beautiful circles. Yet, it was still a doorknob, unchanged by her care and finesse. Then again, most doorknobs are ungrateful to begin with because they are made with gilded gold.

She left the room, closed the door, and exited the place altogether, bearing no words to her mouth but all the happiness in her eyes and heart.

Outside of the complex, which was The Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania, her two brothers, Peter and Edmund, both wearing blue pressed suits and ties sat in a 1956 Daimler Majestic with Edmund in the passenger and Peter in the driver's seat. As Lucy approached the vehicle she thought of the process ahead and what awaited the doctor at the end of the road.

"Well," Lucy said, climbing into the backseat and buckling herself up. "It's finished. Are you sure this will work?"

"It has to." Edmund replied as he looked himself over. "He hasn't a choice in the matter. Neither of them do."

Peter placed the car into drive and began journeying down the road. "It will be good for them both Lucy. In fact, I suggest we all pay them a visit in a few weeks, we could all use a bit of uplifting."


End file.
